


Burning Wings

by flibbertygigget



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst, Cheating, Dom/sub, Light Bondage, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Burr first met Hamilton, he had thought the other man was a dom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Rise

When Burr first met Hamilton, he thought that the other man was a dom, the lover rather than the beloved as the Greeks would have put it. It is only his reaction to Burr's well-meaning advice that caused Burr to realize the truth.

"Talk less. Smile more." Hamilton froze, trembling slightly. Burr could tell that he was resisting the urge to bow his head and make Burr his physical superior. At that moment Burr felt something reaching out inside him, some urge that was both familiar and completely foreign to him.

It was a universally acknowledged truth that male subs and female doms were,  if not rare, at least highly frowned upon by society. And even if Hamilton could be convinced to become his sub, a male dom and a male sub entering a union was as unlawful as two doms. It was a terrible thought to have, to wish for this sub, but Burr couldn't help himself. In giving his free advice, he had enslaved himself to this hideous desire.

"You can't be serious." Just like that, Hamilton's mask was back in place. It must have been exhausting to keep his guard up perpetually, to never allow anyone to see his true nature. Against his better judgement, Burr began to imagine being allowed behind those walls, stripping them away with layers of pain and pleasure-

No more. That was impossible, so Burr would simply have to control himself. He would have to put aside his guilty imaginings and focus on... nothing. He could try to protect, of course, but he could never be satisfied.

"You want to get ahead?"

"Yes."

"Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead."

\---------

Alexander Hamilton had fucked up.

Their was no way back. He knew he had messed up, had let his guard slip for a few seconds. He knew that Burr had seen what he truly was.

Hamilton was used to hiding. He had seen too much of how the world worked back in St. Croix to want to be the weak waste that he was. He had seen how subs were treated there, barely above property or slaves. He had watched his mother be forced to whore herself out because that was the only way to provide for him and his brother. He hadn't wanted a life like that, so he had escaped. He had planned to reinvent himself in New York as a dom, as someone worthy of being respected.

Hamilton would never be able to succeed, not if took only a few words of advice to make his disguise fall apart. He knew he was abrasive, that he was overcompensating for being what he was. There was no way that Burr couldn't have seen through him now.

"Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead." Thoughts either too suspicious or too real raced through Hamilton's head. Was Burr still being genuine or was he trying to claim a sub? Was there even a difference now that he knew?

"I'm sorry," Burr said. Hamilton started, staring at the dom. He could feel himself slipping back into that classically submissive body language that would always betray him.

"What are you talking about?" He could have winced at the insolence in his voice, but Burr showed no sign of being offended by the sub.

"It was presumptuous for me to assume. Now I fear that I have ruined any chance of friendship between us."

"Friendship?" Hamilton knew he was being rude, but he was too surprised to bother with the usual rituals of talking to his betters. "Why would you want to be friends with me?" The unspoken weight of biology and tradition hung between them like a veil.

"Oh, the usual reasons, I suppose," Burr said with a slight shrug. "You seem intelligent, amicable, and an engaging conversationalist. I would not be adverse to getting to know you better- unless you would prefer for me to leave, of course."

"No, stay," Hamilton said quickly, grabbing Burr's sleeve without thinking. Burr's eyes flickered down, and Hamilton pulled back as though burned. Burr gently placed a hand over his as both an invitation and an acknowledgement. "I just- I've never had a real friend before. I know I talk too much, sometimes I just get overexcited and- well, you know how it is. But I promise I'll make you proud. I won't let you down, no matter what-"

"Slow down." Burr gave Hamilton's hand a slight squeeze. "This is a friendship, not a business contract. Relax."

"I'm sorry."

"There's no reason to apologize." Burr distanced his hand from Hamilton's and picked up his drink. "To friendship."

"To freedom," Hamilton responded, taking a deep drink.

\---------

Aaron Burr couldn't bring himself to be angry that Washington had all but thrown him out. Hamilton was undoubtably able to assist the general, and he would need the benefits such patronage more than Burr, whose parentage and station already recommended him.

Burr wasn't surprised when Hamilton came into his tent, nearly bouncing with excitement. He was even less surprised when the eyebrow he raised didn't even cause Hamilton to pause.

"Washington wants me!" Hamilton nearly shouted. Burr stiffened. 

"What?" he snapped.

"Oh, not like that," Hamilton said. "He doesn't know that I'm a sub. He wants me to be his aide de camp."

"Congratulations," said Burr, relaxing. Hamilton dropped on the bed across from Burr with a sigh.

"He told me to gather my things," he said. "I have to move closer to headquarters so that I'm available to him at any time."

"Are you certain that he doesn't know you're a sub?" Burr said. This time Hamilton glared at him. 

"I can take care of myself. Besides, I'll remind you, I am not your sub or anyone else's."

"Understood," Burr said. "I'm sorry, I just... I worry for you, constantly. It has nothing to do with you being a sub." It had everything to do with Hamilton being a sub.

"Why then?" Hamilton said testify, still spoiling for a fight.

"You're my friend," Burr said mildly, "and you manage to be so reckless that I worry that someday you'll get into a fight and end up hurt."

"I can take care of myself," Hamilton said again,  but his voice held no more heat. "Don't worry. If anything happens, you'll be the first one I go to." It wasn't the reassurance Burr wished for, but he wasn't insensilble to the immense trust Hamilton was placing in him.

"Good," he said. "That's all I'm asking for." Hamilton smiled.

\---------

Alexander Hamilton felt ill. Everything he had strove for, every late night and determined letter, had been shattered in an instance. Nothing would be the same again. How could it be?

He wanted to hide, to go somewhere where he didn't feel as though he had been flayed open and put on display for all the world to see, but instead he found himself in front of the tent he knew held Aaron Burr. He peeked through the flap, and then, finding Burr alone, he entered.

"Hamilton," Burr said, and Hamilton fell to his knees. "Hamilton, what's wrong?" Hamilton closed his eyes, wishing that he could resist his biological urges but relaxing instead.

"Washington..." He felt a gentle hand begin to card through his hair. "He knows now. About me."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Hamilton shivered. "Shh, it's alright. Just answer the question."

"He- he didn't hurt me, not really. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"No," Burr said. "Tell me the truth, Hamilton."

"He- he just said that a sub shouldn't be alone in the army, and he offered to- to," Hamilton took a deep breath, "dom me." Burr's hand gripped his hair, grounding him.

"Alright," he said, his voice carefully controlled, calm and calming. "Alright. What do you need me to do?" Hamilton looked up at Burr. The dom's face was unreadable.

"I- I don't need your help," he said. "I'll talk to Washington myself. I'm the best aide he's got, he can't afford to be rid of me." Burr nodded, slowly distancing his hand from Hamilton's hair. Hamilton stood slowly, still feeling the physical effects of his loss of control. "Um, thank you for-"

"Don't mention it." Burr's tone made it clear that Hamilton's breakdown would not be discussed, not then, not ever, and Hamilton felt both relieved and a bit disappointed.

Later, Hamilton would pinpoint that as the exact moment that he fell in love.

\---------

Alexander Hamilton would not panic. The heat was stifling, the scent of blood and sick clogged the air of the tent, but he would not panic. He wasn't back in St. Croix, dying of sickness or destroyed by the hurricane. He was here, at Monmouth, and he had to find his dom.

Burr wasn't his, of course, but he was the closest thing he had to someone who cared about him. More importantly, Burr had not been in his tent, sleeping off the adrenaline crash. There was only one other place that his friend could be, and the idea of Burr in one of the makeshift army hospitals made Hamilton feel ill just thinking of it. He refused to contemplate the possibility that Burr had been killed in the chaos. That was unimaginable. 

It seemed forever before Hamilton found him. Burr looked awful, 'll young on the ground, soaked in sweat, muttering nonsensicaly to himself. Hamilton dropped to his knees beside his friend.

"Burr?" he said uncertainly. "Sir, can you hear me?" Burr's eyes opened and, after wandering a moment, settled on Hamilton's face.

"Hamilton," he said, his voice weak but steady. Hamilton longed to lay his head in the dom's lap, to have those strong fingers gently run through his hair, but he pushed those desires down to his core. Burr was hurt, he needed help, not a weak, needy sub.

"Burr, are you alright?"

"Shh, I'm fine." Burr's hand covered Hamilton's, and Hamilton tried to believe him. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," Hamilton said. "It's almost hot enough to feel like home." The joke felt flat and lifeless, but Burr chuckled anyways. "Do you need anything?"

"Only water, and we have little enough of that as it is," Burr said. "I'll be fine." Hamilton nodded, and then Burr's gaze slipped over Hamilton's shoulder. "It's General Washington," he said softly. Hamilton glanced back.

"He most likely has some letters he needs me to write," Hamilton said. "I'll be back as soon as I'm able."

"That won't be necessary," Burr said. Hamilton opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Burr's face, blank and impersonal, made him realize the truth. Burr was too good for him. The dom didn't want an unlawful relationship, of course he didn't, and this was Burr's way of letting Hamilton down gently.

Hamilton just nodded and slowly began to follow the general. He felt his heart break.

\---------

Aaron Burr didn't know why Hamilton was avoiding him. Ever since Monmouth his health had been precarious, so he wasn't active enough for their paths to cross often, but Hamilton had been in the habit of visiting his tent every so often. Burr was no doubt reading too much into things. Hamilton's time was more and more occupied with his duties as aide de camp, so of course he wasn't going to have time to see a useless soldier. Still, Burr couldn't help but worry.

It wasn't long before his worries proved well founded.

One night he returned to his tent. It had only been a patrol, but Burr feared he had overextended himself. He entered, and he saw that his bed was already occupied by Hamilton, who was curled in fetal position on the thin mattress. 

"Hamilton?" Burr said. Hamilton's eyes fluttered open, and then he shot up like a bullet.

"Aaron Burr, sir!" he said. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking. K won't bother you next time, sir."

"Why were you asleep in my bed?" Hamilton shifted uncomfortably, his gaze roving the tent.

"I'm- I'm being punished," he said. Anger courses through Burr, burning the exhaustion from his limbs.

"What?" he snapped. Hamilton flinched away from him, and Burr tried to reign in his anger. "Hamilton, what's going on?"

"General Lee was saying things about Wahington. I tried to confront him about it, but he," Hamilton looked down and gulped, "he ordered me down. Then he realized that I'm- that, and he told me that I couldn't sleep in my own bed until I had learned some respect." Burr almost snarled, but he forced himself to remain silent. No matter how much he wanted to confront Lee, to claim Hamilton and take him far away from the army, that was not what Hamilton needed, and Burr would choose Hamilton's needs over his own every time.

"What do you need?" Burr said. Hamilton fiddled with the corner of the blanket, biting his bottom lip.

"Can I stay here?" he burst out. Burr's eyes widened slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a problem. I just don't want to have to-" He broke off, and Burr felt a new wave of anger wash over him.

"It's fine," Burr said. "Everything's fine." He paused, considering how to phrase his next question. "Would you rather I slept on the floor, or...?"

"That won't be necessary," Hamilton said quickly. "I- um, I get cold at night." Burr just nodded and climbed into the bed.

He didn't expect anything to happen. He didn't intend to encourage or pressure Hamilton into anything, especially after Lee's... behavior. But, to Burr's surprise, when he lay down Hamilton drew closer until he had fit himself into the curve of Burr's body. Burr didn't know what was happening. He didn't understand why Hamilton seemed to trust him, to want to be close to him. He knew that it was dangerous to let Hamilton get this close, but he would not be the reason that Hamilton departed.

Burr gently wrapped his arms around the sub and waited for sunrise.

\---------

When Alexander Hamilton woke that morning, it wasn't to the terrible chill and aching emptiness that he usually dreaded. Instead he found himself warm and safe, wrapped in his dom's arms-

His dom. Burr. Hamilton tensed as the events of the previous night came back to him. Oh, God, he had been pathetic. Worse, he had forced Burr to take care of him, even though he knew that Burr didn't want him, even though he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't hurt Burr any more than he already had. The right thing would be to leave before Burr woke, but he couldn't bear to abandon the warmth and safety he had found.

"Hamilton," Burr murmered sleepily as he woke. Hamilton turned away from him, and Burr's arms fell away. Hamilton shivered from the loss of heat. "How are you now?"

"I'm sorry," Hamilton said. "I should never have come here."

"I don't mind," Burr said. Hamilton froze. It was pathetic that those three words could make him feel as though his heart would beat out of his chest.

"What do you mean?" he said softly, struggling to keep his voice steady. He felt Burr's hand hovering above his head, touch feather-light. He pushed into the caress, letting Burr's fingers tangle through his hair.

"I never want you to hesitate in coming to me if you need me. I will always be willing to help you in any way you ask of me." Hamilton turned to look at Burr. The dom's face was still a mask of indifference, but his eyes were so tender they took Hamilton's breath away. "You never have to apologize for coming to me."

"What if..." Hamilton took a deep breath. "What if Lee wasn't the only reason I came here?" Burr's hands tightened their grip on Hamilton's hair.

"What do you mean?" Burr said, his voice turning into a low growl. "Hamilton, if anyone's hurt you, I want to-"

"It's not that!" Hamilton had never found himself so lost, fumbling with his words j n this manner. "I just- I could have gone a lot of places, but I came here, to you, and not just because I had no other place to go. I- I trust you. I-" Hamilton distanced himself from Burr's arms and traveled down, until his mouth hovered over the growing bulge in Burr's trousers. "Let me show you." Hamilton felt Burr's hands return to his hair, and he began to slip easily into his role, more easily than he ever had before. But then Burr's hands traveled down to his cheeks, and Hamilton found his chin tilted up and Burr's eyes meeting his.

"No," Burr said softly. "That won't be necessary." Hamilton felt the room drop out from underneath him.

"What?" he said.

"That won't be necessary, Hamilton. I am your friend. I will always be here for you, no matter what."

"But I thought this was what you wanted," Hamilton said. Burr's thumb began to caress his jaw, and Hamilton closed his eyes, trying to hide the tears he could feel in them.

"I want you to be safe and happy. Anything else is superfluous."

"And what if this would make me happy?" He felt Burr freeze, and when he opened his eyes the look of pure shock on Burr's face almost made him laugh.

"Hamilton-"

"Would you say yes if you knew that I wanted this?"

"You don't have to-"

"I want this." Hamilton turned his head and kissed Burr's palm. "I want you."

"Why would you want me?" Burr said, sounding inexplicably awestruck. 

"Because you loved and respected me despite my flaws," Hamilton said. "Yet you never asked for anything in return except what I willingly gave. Well, I'm giving you this now. I'm tired of skirting around this, trying to pretend that I don't want to be yours in every way possible." Hamilton buried his head in Burr's stomach. "So tell me, can I be your sub?" Burr didn't speak. He simply lifted Hamilton's fave upwards and gave him a gentle kiss.

That was answer enough.

\---------

Aaron Burr knew that, as elated as he was by the turn of events, he couldn't afford to act any different. One slip, one careless action, could end with both of them imprisoned. So Burr was careful. He acted toward Hamilton as he always had, as a respected friend, and refused to give into his urges without taking every precaution. 

Hamilton was the opposite. Instead of exercising the caution the situation required, he seemed to delight in flaunting their new status. If Burr didn't know better, he would have said that Hamilton wanted then to be caught. 

Still, Burr felt all that fear and anxiety melt away at moments like these. Seeing Hamilton spread before him, gagged and bound, completely helpless, made him certain of their future together. They would be forever, or they would be hanged, it didn't matter. He had Hamilton now.

Burr always went as languidly as he could, taking Hamilton apart piece by piece. He started at Hamilton's neck, pressing down with lips and teeth until he almost bruised the skin. Then he moved down, to places rendered safe by his sub's uniform, to where he could paint his canvas as he wished. He used deep blues and purples, embedding his fingerprints like a brand on the caramel skin, and occasionally, almost as a treat, allowing his fingernails to rake a trail of red that he lapped up like a dog.

Only then did he open his sub. It was more difficult with a man, but also more visceral. They never had any way of lubricating, but neither of them minded. The tight pain made Hamilton so hard Burr sometimes thought he would burst, and Burr himself would struggle not to climax within the first few thrusts. Sex with Hamilton was a test of patience, a vicious contest of who could bear the exquisite, furious pain better, longer, harder.

Afterwards, Burr would hold his sub in his arms, offering soft caresses and gentle kisses for every bruise and scratch, and Hamilton would nuzzle into him as though, if he tried hard enough, they could bleed together into one whole. Those were the moments when all residual doubt fell away, and Burr would dare to tell Hamilton that he loved him.

\---------

The war seemed as though it would last forever, until suddenly it was over. They had won. They had won, and in the midst of the celebration Alexander Hamilton wondered what came next.

He had no intention of letting Burr go, not after they had managed to get to the other side of the war without losing each other, but he had no idea how to keep his dom without giving them both away. They couldn't live together, not without talk, and he wasn't going to settle for seeing his dom anything less than every day of his life.

Of course, Hamilton should have trusted Burr to think of a solution.

"Hamilton," Burr said one night, after the musk of sex had faded away, "you've been worried about something." Hamilton knew the unspoken order to confide in his dom.

"I just- what are we going to do now? We have no opportunity to continue like this without people suspecting us."

"Shh, don't worry," Burr said. He ran a hand through Hamilton's hair, and the sub let out a contented sigh. "I have a plan. We are both going to practice law, correct?" Hamilton nodded. "We shall simply procure offices near each other. There is nothing suspect in visiting a colleague to consult them in a legal matter. And if we are with each other often, well, we were good friends during the war. These two explanations should more than suffice." Hamilton smiled.

"You're a genius," he said. Burr shook his head, but Hamilton could make out his soft smile through the shadows.

Everything's happened just as Burr had said. Hamilton procured a small office on Wall Street, and only a week later heard that Burr had moved in next door. He rushed over and knocked on the door.

"Aaron Burr, sir," he said when the door opened.

"Colonel Hamilton," Burr said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hamilton gave him a giddy smile.

"Only welcoming you to the neighborhood, sir," he said. 

"Would you like to come inside," Burr said with the barest hint of a smirk.

"That would be nice," Hamilton said. As he closed the door behind him and fell into Burr's arms he knew everything would be alright.


	2. We Fall

Aaron Burr found nothing quite so frustrating as his sub. At every turn, Hamilton seemed bound and determined to trumpet his opinions for all the world to hear, making enemies both political and personal along the way. Burr didn't deny that Hamilton was right more often than not, but every speech, every pamphlet, every word seemed calculated to make as many people as upset as possible. Burr didn't begrudge Hamilton his opinion, but he did wish that his sub was wiser about how he revealed that opinion to the world.

Burr had patiently endured the Levi Weeks case and Hamilton's speech at the Constitutional Convention, but this was too much. Hamilton's planned series of essays defending the Constitution was madness, plain and simple. They could not remain anonymous for long, not with the way Hamilton couldn't help but leave his mark on everything he touched, and if they failed... Burr had to do his duty and stop Hamilton now, before he hurt himself with his own words.

So when Hamilton came to him, asking for his help in writing the essays, Burr told him no. For a moment Hamilton stood there on his doorstep, mouth halfway through forming a "thank you," confusion slowly clouding his features.

"No?" Hamilton said. Burr forced back his reflexive guilt.

"No, Hamilton. This is madness. I won't allow you to poison your prospects before you have even begun."

"Burr, I thought you trusted me. I thought we agreed that I am not yours to command, and that my career is independent of our relationship."

"This has nothing to do with you being a sub," Burr said, massaging his temples. "I only wish to dissuade you from a course I believe will end in ruin for both of us."

"Someone has to make a stand for the Constitution. Don't you support it as I do?"

"You know that I do," Burr said. "But why does it have to be you, Hamilton? You have so much more to lose than the rest of us."

"I knew it! You think that just because I'm a sub, you can control me. You think me incapable of forming my own opinions."

"If you are wrong, then they will be after you for attempting to overthrow the current government and the Congress. It won't take much digging to discover real evidence against you, through our relationship. This is grounds for imprisonment, even execution."

"Burr, for once in your life, take a stand with pride. You can't let your fear prevent you from doing what's right."

"Hamilton, please, I'm begging you, don't pursue this ruinous course. Let's bide our time awhile, together, and wait to see which way the wind blows. Tensions can only grow, and I don't wish for yiu to find yourself in the center of them." He reached out to clasp Hamilton's shoulder, but Hamilton shrugged him off, glaring.

"You can't force me to stand aside and do nothing," he said. "I'm going to defend the Constitution, even if you're too much of a coward to let people know what you stand for." Hamilton slammed the door as he left.

\---------------

Alexander Hamilton had never been so frustrated in his life. Not only were Jefferson and Madison constantly blocking his every proposition, Washington absolutely refused to use his influence to help ease his very important debt plan through.

Washington pushed for compromise. Burr urged patience. Hamilton had no desire to take either piece of advice, but he had to admit that his own strategy wasn't working. He had very few pieces that he was willing to bargain away, most of them too small for his purpose, but he needed that debt plan through as it was, with not a period or a comma missing. He had only two pieces that gave him any hope of achieving his goal. One was the location of the new national capital, the other...

He didn't tell Burr the purpose of the dinner. "It's just a political thing," he had said casually. "I won't be back until late. Don't wait up." He knew that if Burr had realized the immense risk he was taking, he would not have been allowed to go.

That thought made Hamilton scowl. Burr's worry was nice sometimes, but all too often it intersected with his career in ways that made Hamilton chafe. Hamilton had no desire to be made a puppet, though he knew that wasn't what Burr wanted either. Burr simply wasn't cut out for Hamilton's decisive, bold brand of politics. If Hamilton was fire, determined to leave his mark by racing over as much territory as possible, Burr was ice. He moved at a glacial pace that seemed almost stationary to Hamilton. Each action was carefully weighed and considered before it was coolly carried out. Burr sought to be inscrutable, a bastion of logic and objective reasoning on an increasingly divided playing field, but he only succeeded in frustrating Hamilton. He loved his dom so much it hurt, but he would never understand him.

At this dinner, though, he tried to take his dom's advice. Talk less, smile more. He nodded even as Jefferson and Madison danced around the real issues, even as they attempted to shoot down his plan while still stealing the Potomac position he offered. This was not the strategy he would have chosen, but if it worked, the humiliation would have been worth it.

There was a slight lull in the conversation, and Hamilton took his opportunity. In one fluid, practiced movement he shed his pretense of dominance. At first Jefferson and Madison seemed not to notice, but then Hamilton heard the breath catch in their throats. He swallowed a smile. They had taken the bait.

"Hamilton," Madison said delicately. Hamilton looked up at him through fluttering lashes.

"Sir?" he said. Both of the other men looked distinctly uncomfortable. 

"Are you..." Madison trailed off.

"Sir, I understand if you don't take me seriously. I am a sub, and thus I ought not have the kind of power that I have obtained through my duplicity." Hamilton looked up, meeting their eyes in a way no sub ought to have dared to. "But this debt plan is important to me, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to convince you to help me." It was a dangerous game he played now. If they didn't take the bait, he had just handed them the most perfect blackmail material. Jefferson, hedonist that he was, was the first to catch on. He slowly rose from the table.

"Whatever it takes?" he said, licking his lips. Hamilton couldn't suppress a shudder. This was the kind of man he had sworn he would never sub for, the kind that saw subs as only objects tk be used. But this wasn't the same. Hamilton was not being used, he was the one using Jefferson for his own ends.

"Yes, sir," he said, "whatever you want from me, I will willingly give to you." Madison stood now, and Hamilton could see the twin bulges in the doms' trousers. They were like vultures circling carrion, so certain that they could take and take and take without any consequences. But Hamilton wasn't dead yet, and this supposed piece of meat could bite back.

Still, he couldn't help but feel guilty and wrong as the doms took what was theirs.

\---------------

For the first time in months, Alexander Hamilton went to his own house, to his own bed. He couldn't pretend that nothing had happened, not when he felt as though evidence of the encounter was as clear as the mark upon Cain. He couldn't face Burr like this.

Hamilton allowed the tight heat in his trousers to gradually dissipate, leaving him empty and unsatisfied. He didn't deserve the pleasure of release, not after what he had done. It had never been a rule, but he knew that it pleased Burr when he went to him instead of taking care of his arousal by himself. To sate himself now, when he was unable to face his dom, would only make his guilt all the worse.

Burr could never know what he had traded away. That Hamilton was certain of. It didn't matter what it took, how many lies he had to spin, his dom could not know how completely he had betrayed him.

Hamilton spent a sleepless night shivering, unused to sleeping alone. The next day he returned to Burr. His dom didn't mention the night they had spent apart, but Hamilton couldn't help but feel that Burr suspected something. 

From that point forward, nothing was the same. Hamilton's guilt had spoiled everything.

\---------------

Burr hadn't expected a good reaction from his sub. Hamilton had never been quiet about his views on the Democratic-Republican party, and Burr had to admit that Jefferson, at least, was an oily hypocrite who could burrow under his skin like no other. But Burr's political career needed something to inject new life into it, and if becoming a Democratic-Republican helped him, so be it.

"Burr, how could you?" Burr sighed at the breathlessly angry words. "Since when have you been a Democratic-Republican?"

"Since being one gave me a career again," he said.

"You're betraying all of your ideals!" Burr grimaced. 

"Jefferson and I agree on enough. Besides, does it matter what I believe? It's my responsibility to represent the views of the people, not my personal opinions."

"Is there anything you wouldn't do for the sake of power?"

"It's called compromise, Hamilton. You did enough of it while fighting to get your debt plan through." For a moment Hamilton froze, and then his face transformed into something hurt and hateful.

"That is nothing compared to this. The things I traded away didn't matter, but you- you're whoring yourself out for votes! Are yiu really that desperate for the slightest taste of power?" Burr swallowed away the sick that flooded his mouth. He wanted to yell at Hamilton, but Burr wasn't cruel. This was a simple political difference blown out of proportion, nothing more, and he couldn't risk making it personal. At the end of the day, their relationship would still stand. 

"Hamilton, this conversation is over," Burr said. "You have your opinion, and I have mine. I see no reason why this should cause such difficulties in our relationship." Hamilton just turned and left Burr's office in a huff, pausing only to throw back a final icy glare. Burr sighed and went back to his work. He knew from experience that Hamilton would calm down soon enough.

\---------------

Alexander Hamilton was just being paranoid. He had to be. There was no way that the smug looks that Jefferson shot him at cabinet meetings related to anything other than that terrible compromise.

Hamilton had never been the most calm of people, but this was new to him. He worried about Madison and Jefferson revealing he was a sub. He worried about them finding out about his relationship with Burr. He worried about Burr finding out what had happened that night.

Burr noticed the change in his sub. He fidgeted, he barely ate, he barely spoke. Burr wanted Hamilton to confide in him, but more than anything he wanted his sub to be alright. He would give anything for Hamilton's strange new behavior to stop and for them to simply be as they were.

Burr almost longed for the war. Hamilton and he had been on the same side then, but now they seemed constantly at odds. Bitterly, he thought that, had he known the strife their differences would cause, he would have never offered to be Hamilton's dom. That wasn't true, of course, but at some moments Burr was frustrated and bitter enough to feel as though it could be.

As tensions between Hamilton and the rest of the world grew, he began to think that he wouldn't get out intact. Something would have to break, to end before he could ever be satisfied.

So Hamilton did as he always had. He wrote it all down, every bit of it, from the war to the dinner party and beyond. What began as private penance became a public confession. Perhaps if he showed the world how he had been mistreated, perhaps if he overwhelmed his paranoia with honesty, he would finally be free. He would owe nothing to any dom. He would no longer fear to do as he pleased because of Jefferson's blackmail or Burr's disapproval. 

In retrospect, it was possible that he hadn't thought things all the way through.

\---------------

Burr didn't want to believe what he read.

It was impossible. Not even Hamilton could have published something so completely foolhardy. It was bad enough when Burr thought that Hamilton had simply revealed their relationship to the world.

Then he read the pamphlet. 

Wasn't it enough for Hamilton to ruin their lives? Wasn't it enough for him to ensure that, barring divine intervention they would both most certainly be jailed or worse? No, Hamilton couldn't be content with taking away Burr's life, he had to destroy his heart as well.

Someone was pounding on his door. Burr didn't open it. Was it the police, come to take him away? Was it a mob, ready to stone him for the crime of loving Hamilton? Or was it just his sub, expecting his words to have no effect on his lover, expecting everything to go on as though Hamilton hadn't told the whole world of his betrayal?

Burr would not open the door. He needed more time for this, time to get his emotions back behind his protective mask, time to try to understand what could ever have possessed Hamilton to try to absolve himself by breaking his heart. The world had no right to see him like this, broken over what they had, or what they used to have. Hamilton had no right to Burr's heart, not anymore.

Burr reread every letter Hamilton had wrote to him, that he had saved in spite of his better judgement, and then he threw them into the fire. The world would never see what Hamilton had told him to make him believe that he loved him. They would never see how Burr had fallen for the sub's lies. 

The knocking at the door had stopped. Burr closed his eyes, refusing to let them give him away. He sat and began to write his sub- Hamilton a letter demanding a retraction. There had never been anything between them. His legacy would not be tainted by this.

\---------------

One.

Burr turned from Hamilton to go the required ten paces, his face cold and blank.

Two.

Perhaps he should have felt something, some sort of regret, but Burr had wasted too many tears on this man already. His heart was hardened.

Three.

Hamilton was pale. He looked weak, too weak to be in a duel. Burr hated himself for still caring how Hamilton felt.

Four.

Burr thought of the letter he had left at his bedside. It was full of lies about how he had never had sex with Hamilton,  this was a duel to preserve his honor against Hamilton's slanderous accusations, there was nothing against him.

Five.

It was full of truths about how he had never loved him.

Six.

Well, not never. Never never. Burr had loved him once, he was sure of it, but bitterness and hurt made even the brightest memories cast in shadow.

Seven.

Even if they called this off now, even if he could somehow forgive Hamilton, they would never be the same. He could never trust Hamilton again, not after what he'd done, and that spoiled everything. 

Eight.

He had searched through the letters, through his memories, and he had found nothing. He had felt nothing but bitterness coil in his heart. He was so tired of feeling for this man. He wished he could burn away those bated memories as he had burned the letters, free himself from his heart as he had from the world.

Nine.

It was him, or it was Hamilton. They could never be the same. They could never move on. The only way to end this whole affair was through death and destruction.

Ten.

Burr raised his gun. There was no hint of hesitation on either of their faces.

Fire.

"Wait!"


End file.
